


I'll Talk to Your Mother

by HarrogateBelmont



Series: Home for the Holidays [2]
Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: F/M, Father/Daughter Bonding, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:42:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27331393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarrogateBelmont/pseuds/HarrogateBelmont
Summary: Robin has to let her parents know her holiday plans. How will they receive the news?
Relationships: Robin Ellacott & Michael Ellacott, Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike
Series: Home for the Holidays [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1995508
Comments: 11
Kudos: 41





	I'll Talk to Your Mother

**Author's Note:**

> This is a continuation of [Can I Bring Someone?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26722120) I decided to turn this into a series. I thought I'd let Robin off easy and have her talk to her father first.

Their mark had just entered his alleged mistresses house, and Robin knew she was likely in for several long, boring hours before he left or Andy relieved her for surveillance. She reached for the battered paperback filled with crossword puzzles that was sitting on the seat next to her in the Land Rover, and sighed.

She had to make a phone call. The thought was both exhilarating and nerve-inducing. But since Cormoran had spoken to his sister the day before about their holiday plans, Robin really needed to make a similar call to Masham.

The thought had preoccupied her most of the evening before she fell asleep and she thought of it immediately when she woke up. She was trying to plan for the best time to call - she wanted to make sure her mother was relaxed, focused, not preoccupied on anything that might cause her to react too harshly. Now that both of her parents were semi-retired, it was more difficult to understand their schedules. Robin knew that her mother had a standing lunch date on Wednesdays with her book club, and that her father had a card game night with his friends every other Friday. 

But today was Thursday. It was mid-morning, and where else would her parents be but at home? Robin knew that some of the best conversations she’d had with her mother over the past several weeks had been during this time, before lunch, and in the middle of the week. It seemed to be a sort of sign to her mother that she wasn’t working  _ too  _ hard if she could chat in the middle of the work week. 

So, with a sigh, Robin picked up her phone, tapped over to her  _ Favorites _ and clicked to dial  _ Mum and Dad _ . 

“Hello Birdie!” It was her father. Unusual for him to answer, and even more strange for him to know it was her. 

“Dad,” said Robin. “How’d you know it was me?”

“Oh, we had to upgrade our cable television and your mother had some sort of deal that meant they had to do something to our phones. Now, whenever anyone calls, a very polite robot woman announces it loudly to the entire house. If you’re watching the telly, it broadcasts it there as well. Can’t figure out how to turn it off.”

Robin laughed. “Can’t Martin help?” 

“Your brother? Help? Are you feeling quite yourself?”

Robin laughed again. She loved her father dearly, but it was her mother to whom she mostly spoke and communicated details of her daily life. She had no idea how much her mother relayed back to her father. She always assumed that her mother told her father everything, and that her father only half-listened. At the same time, her father was the one who could make her occasionally burst into tears, feeling emotions she didn’t know she’d even had, often with only a few words or a glance.

“What are you up to, then?” Robin asked her father. 

“Oh, this and that,” Michael said. “Mum and I went for a stroll this morning. Just gearing up to do a bit of work. Got to keep my mind sharp.”

Robin had surmised at this point that her mother was not at home. Usually, her father would have called for Linda by now, but Robin was enjoying this conversation. Her father was not usually overly communicative.

“Working on anything interesting?” Michael Ellacott told his daughter about some of his post-retirement projects - things that he did because he chose to, not because he had to, and how much he enjoyed feeling needed in a professional way, without the usual restrictions of a formal workplace.

“Are you at work?” Michael asked. “Just hit me that it’s a Thursday morning.” 

“Yes, I’m sitting in the Land Rover watching a house at the moment. Bit boring. But the most boring jobs are the ones that usually pay the bills.” 

“Business okay then?” 

“Yes. Great, actually. Don’t know if Mum told you - we hired a new subcontractor last month so we can take on additional clients.”

“She mentioned something,” said Michael. “Your mum’s out doing Christmas shopping. Said she’d rather do it during the week when fewer people are about.”

“Ah -” said Robin. She hadn’t planned on having this conversation with her father, but now it seemed like perhaps the best solution. “I wanted to talk to you both about Christmas-” 

“You’re not coming, are you?” he asked gently.

“No,” said Robin, surprised. “How did you know?” She wracked her brain, trying to remember if she had somehow dropped any hints or said anything to her mother during their last few conversations. But she knew that she had purposely  _ not  _ mentioned Cormoran unless asked, and had tried to sound neutral. Come to think of it, her mother had also not mentioned her coming home this year, and by now she would usually be asking about train schedules and other logistical questions.

“Well, we did wonder,” he said. “I can understand. Must still be quite difficult for you. We were all upset.”

“You’re… upset?” Robin asked. And then, suddenly, she realized, and laughed a little, mostly with relief. “Oh! You must have found out about Matthew then.”

“Well, yes,” said her father, “your mother was quite difficult to live with the first few days after she found out. She wondered if you knew, and if so, why you didn’t say anything, but I told her that it was probably too painful for you to discuss.”

Robin laughed outright now, a hearty, happy laugh. “Birdie?” said her father, sounding confused. “You okay? I know the two of us don’t have a chance to chat very often, but you can talk to me if you want…”

“Oh, Dad,” said Robin. “I’m fine. I knew about Matthew, yes. I’ve known since March.  _ That _ ’ _ s  _ not why I’m not coming home.”

There was silence on the line. Then finally, “Really?”

“Yes,” said Robin firmly. “Really. I’m not bothered about  _ him _ . I’ve had an invitation for the holidays, and I thought I’d accept it, and arrange to visit later in January for a long weekend, if that’s okay.”

“We’re not going anywhere. An invitation?” asked her father. “I’m glad you’ve found some good friends in London, then. Sounds intriguing, anywhere good?” Robin had the impression that her father was imagining some sort of exotic girls’ weekend, on a beach, at an international location.

“Cornwall.”

“Cornwall? Won’t it be cold?”

Robin laughed again. “I’m not going for the beach,” she said. Robin took a deep breath. “Cormoran’s invited me to spend the holiday with his family in St. Mawe’s.” 

Silence again. “Dad?”

“Ah. I suppose we suspected that as well.” Robin could imagine her father removing his spectacles and rubbing his eyes.

Robin sighed. “And?”

“Are you happy, love?”

“More than I’ve ever been in my entire life.”

“Then I’m happy for you. Will you be bringing Cormoran with you when you come later in January?” 

“Would that be okay?”

“I just asked, didn’t I? Of course it is.”

Robin saw movement at the door of the house across the street. “Oh, hold on, Dad - I’ve just got to watch something for a minute.” Relieved for the break, because she could feel tears pricking at her eyelids, Robin picked up the camera on her lap, and placed it on the dashboard, waiting. Their target was leaving the house, with its owner, the woman, arm in arm. 

She snapped a few pictures, and then picked up the phone. “Dad?” 

“Still here,” he said. “Something exciting happening?”

“Not sure if you could call it that, but I’m going to have to get out of the car for a bit.” She was already opening the door to the Land Rover. She could still see their target, now about a block away. “I’ll call back later - will you be home?”

“I’ll be here. Call back this evening. I’ll talk to your mother, if that’s alright with you.”

“Thanks, Dad.” Robin locked the door to the Land Rover and started walking down the street, about a block behind her target. “Love you.”

“I love you too, Birdie.”


End file.
